


Goofè Dean

by ohmyloki



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-11 18:17:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7064884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyloki/pseuds/ohmyloki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Jack and Bitty aren't caught and the one time they make an announcement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Who's on First?

**Author's Note:**

> This is fully written and clocks in around 8.5k. Mild smut in a few of the first 5 chapters, but it'll earn it's rating in the 6th. Ideally posting a new chapter every other day!
> 
> Many many thanks to both [readtoomuchintoit](http://readtoomuchintoit.tumblr.com/) and [kayytx](http://kayytx.tumblr.com/) for taking a peek and helping me fix my mistakes. Any that remain are purely of my own doing!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wanna talk about it?” Shitty asks.

Shitty groans and says, “Check out those _hands_ , those filthy, filthy hands!”

They’re in Jack’s apartment, camped out on his big squashy couch. Between hot-boxing Jack’s bathroom and the six-pack split between them, Shitty is a warm, heavy weight at Jack’s side as they catch the highlight reels from this week’s games. Jack probably won’t ever ever admit it out loud, but he has definitely missed Shitty’s colorful commentary.

He’s enjoying the comforting presence that Shitty always has, the way it allows them to sit around, talking only when they feel the need but otherwise enjoying each other’s company in companionable silence, when his phone goes off. Shitty reaches over and grabs it from where it’s sitting on the end table next to him and immediately freezes.

“Woah, buddy! Who is Dicky and please tell me you’re tapping that?” Shitty says, sounding impressed.

Jack’s breath catches in his throat. “What?”

Shitty hands over Jack’s phone. Jack unlocks it and sees the new text notification from Bitty. He opens it up and finds a photo of Bitty shirtless, the majority of his face cut off. His lips are barely visible, curled up into a smile, but the majority of the screen is taken up by Bitty’s chest and abs. The white sheets he’s laying on are clearly not his own and Jack checks the time and realizes Bitty’s game must be over and he’s already back at the hotel.

Beneath the photo is another message that says, ‘ _We won! I feel like celebrating ;) Miss you, hope you’re having a good time with Shitty!_ ’

Jack’s cheeks flush and he glances over at Shitty. His mustache and eyebrows are colluding in a way that lets Jack know exactly what kinds of things are going through his mind. He briefly thinks about lying, saying that it’s probably just another spambot, but the lie dies before it reaches his throat.

“Uh. Yeah,” Jack says and then clears his throat. “Yeah, I am.”

“Dude!” Shitty smiles widely.

Jack shifts in his seat.

“Wanna talk about it?” Shitty asks.

Jack’s throat tightens. “I--I don’t--I’m not sure if--”

“Brah,” Shitty interrupts. “It’s cool. You do you. But if you do ever want to talk about it, I’ve got your back.”

Jack lets out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Shits. I appreciate it.”

Shitty is quickly distracted by another hockey clip (“Holy FUCK, look at that--he’s WIDE open. Just look at that penetration!”) and Jack looks back down at his phone. He takes a deep breath and replies to Bitty’s texts.

‘ _Congratulations! Don’t have too much fun without me. I miss you, too._ ’

He gets a reply almost instantly. ‘ _Too much fun without you? Impossible. You’ve ruined me for all other fun. :p_ ’

Jack grins and sends back, ‘ _Love you, see you soon.’_

‘ _Love you too,_ sw _eetheart. Can’t wait <3’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bitty’s phone dies and he asks if he can use Jack’s to call his parents and let them know he’s landed. He opens up the the contacts and is surprised when he doesn’t see his own name under recently called after having talked for nearly two hours the night before. Bitty frowns slightly as he checks out the name on top and—
> 
> “Did you change my name in your phone to ‘Dicky’?” He asks, bewildered.
> 
> “Oh. Haha, yeah.” Jack says.
> 
> “…why did you change my name to ‘Dicky’ in your phone?” Bitty asks.
> 
> Jack shrugs. “Makes me smile.”
> 
> “Oh.” Bitty says, thinking about the multitude of emoji’s after Jack’s name in his own phone. “Okay, then.”


	2. What's on Second

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Uh--” Bitty says. “I can explain.”

“ERIC BITTLE.”

Bitty startles and turns around, watching as Shitty strides into the room. He had come down for the long weekend to--ostensibly--visit the hockey team but no one has yet pointed out the fact that he seems to be spending an excessive amount of time in Lardo’s room. Behind a closed door.

Shitty’s presence in the Haus is expected; Bitty’s phone in Shitty’s hand is not.

“Uh. Yes?” Bitty says.

Shitty holds out his hand, the one with the phone in it, and shakes it at Bitty. He had left it on the table in the den while he stepped out to put away some leftovers.

“I was just sitting there, wondering about the trajectory of my life, thinking about how each and every decision I have ever made has led me to this very point in time and how every miniscule decision I’m making even at this very second could likely change the rest of my life as I know it--”

“Shitty. Have you been eating those brownies I made for you?” Bitty eyes him.

“I have been eating those brownies that you made me.”

“And how many of those brownies are left?”

“Don’t you change the subject on me, Bits.” Shitty says, sternly.

“What was the subject, again?” Bitty asks.

“The fact that I was sitting there, contemplating the intricacies of the universe and how if I were to eat another brownie, maybe tomorrow I’ll step out in the street and get hit by a car and end up winning a lawsuit against the drunk douchebag who thought he was ‘totally okay to drive, dude’ and be free of my father’s purse strings. Or, maybe not eating the brownie would result in me leaving the house ten seconds earlier than normal and I’d safely cross the street, never even knowing how different my life could have been. And while I was contemplating the butterfly wings of my decisions, a text message appeared on your lock screen.”

“I receive a lot of text messages, Shitty…”

Shitty sighs. “Yes but this was a text from one Bad Bob Zimmermann.”

Bitty freezes. “And? You text him too.”

Shitty holds out the phone again. Bitty walks over and takes it from him, unlocking the phone and quickly checking his messages.

“ _How’s my favourite future son-in-law doing?_ ”

It’s not the first time he’s been called that by Bad Bob, but it never fails to make Bitty feel warm all over. Then he remembers that Shitty saw it and he goes cold.

“Uh--” Bitty says. “I can explain.”

Except he can’t. For the life of him he can’t think of anything that could explain this away as a joke or mistake, it’s like his mind has been completely wiped of all unique thoughts.

Shitty thankfully doesn’t seem to notice Bitty’s panic. He sits down heavily at the kitchen table and puts his face in his hands.

“I’ve been replaced,” Shitty whines.

Bitty nearly chokes. “What?”

“Bad Bob called you ‘son’. I’m supposed to be the familial love of Bob and Alicia Zimmermann’s lives. Outside of Jack, of course.” Shitty says. “I’ve been replaced.”

Bitty opens his mouth and searches fruitlessly for something to say before closing it again. He’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, however, and he sends up a silent thank you that Shitty, in his current altered state, seems to have missed both the ‘future’ and the ‘in-law’ portions of the text message altogether. He sits down next to Shitty.

“There’s just no time,” Shitty says. “I have no fucking time! I barely see Jack anymore, I don’t see Lardo nearly as often as I should, and now--- _and now_ \--Bob and Alicia have replaced me!”

“Shitty,” Bitty says, putting a hand on Shitty’s shoulder. “You haven’t been replaced. Jack and Lardo know you’re busy. We all know you’re busy. We’re not gonna hold it against you. And trust me, Bob and Alicia have not replaced you at all.”

Shitty deflates, going silent for a moment. “I know, Bits. I know. But I just. I hate it.”

“You’re allowed to hate it. You’re allowed to feel this way. But I’m telling you that it’ll be okay. We’ve got your back.”

Shitty huffs out a laugh.

“Now what do you say you give me a hug, we go in and watch Transformers and I’ll let you tell me all about what a sexist pig Michael Bay is while we wait for those brownies to wear off, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Shitty says.

“Besides,” Bitty says as they head to the den. “Parents are supposed to love all their kids equally… but if they don’t, I have no doubt in my mind that you are Bob and Alicia’s favorite son. Besides Jack.”

Bitty’s angling after the ‘in-law’ position, after all.


	3. I Don't Know is on Third

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wanna take your shirt off for me, sweetheart?” Bitty asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly starting to work at that rating!

They Skype every night at the same time. Bitty hasn’t found it yet, but he would bet on his favorite rolling pin that Jack has written up a weekly schedule and at the end of every day, right before his self-designated bedtime, there’s a small chunk blocked out just for Bitty. Sometimes they will have to reschedule--Jack has an event that runs late into the night, Bitty has a paper due the next morning that he hasn’t even started yet--but for the most part it’s like clockwork.

Bitty normally uses his tablet; he likes being able to prop it up on his pillow and pretend like Jack’s right there in bed with him. Sometimes, though, Bitty sits at his desk in front of his computer so his hands are free and he can point his camera at whatever he’d like without having to hold it.

Tonight's a night where Bitty is going to want both hands. He’s been on edge all day.

He blames the explicit and extremely vivid dream he had the night before. The dream that was apparently so good he slept through his first two alarms and by the time he woke up from the third one, he had just enough time to throw on some clothes and run out the door and no time at all to… take care of business.

The rest of the day had been much of the same, rushing from class to practice to a meeting for a group project, and by the time he made it home and changed into his pajamas, Jack was supposed to call in fifteen minutes. Bitty thinks briefly about taking care of himself in the bathroom but knows that it would be so much better with Jack. It’s not like it’s entirely out of the ordinary for them and Bitty is sure it won’t be too hard to talk Jack into it.

He’s right.

Bitty is hoping to be a little smoother about it, but they spend a few minutes talking about Jack’s game from the night before, Bitty pulling up a highlight reel to re-watch a particularly sexy move, and Bitty trails off talking about the way Jack moves on the ice. Jack’s eyebrows furrow.

Bitty bites his lip, tilts his head down and looks through his eyelashes at Jack.  “Wanna take your shirt off for me, sweetheart?” Bitty asks, already palming himself through his pants.

Jack’s eyes darken.

“Oh.” He says. “Yeah--um. Just a sec.”

The screen wobbles and darkens and Bitty grins as he listens to the sounds of Jack moving his laptop to a better position. When he comes back into focus, Bitty watches as he shucks off his shirt without fanfare. Jack smiles a little shyly, his hair mussed, and Bitty wants so much to be able to reach out and feel the warmth of his smooth skin.

“Good?” Jack asks.

“Oh, handsome, you have no idea,” Bitty says.

“Well,” Jack says in a low voice. “I would if you returned the favor.”

“How could I resist a request like that?” Bitty asks and promptly removes his own shirt.

He knows he’s no slouch, that all of his hard work is shown in the definition of the muscles on his stomach and arms, but he’s still a guy surrounded by physical perfection on a daily basis, so sometimes it gets to him. Just a little bit. The way Jack looks at him, though, makes all of his insecurities fly right out the window.

“Bits,” Jack sighs, leaning towards the screen. There’s a flush on his chest already. Bitty groans.

“The things you do to me,” Bitty says as he unzips his pants.

Jack smiles at him. “I could say the same thing.”

Neither of them are well-versed in dirty talking, but they’re both keen on learning. Bitty whispers a lot of sweet nothings, telling Jack how good he looks, how much Bitty wishes he could touch him. Jack says Bitty’s name an inordinate amount of times, sometimes getting the courage to tell Bitty what he’d like to do to him but usually ends up trailing off into moans or switching to Quebecois. One of these times Bitty will make him translate, but if he’s honest with himself, the way the words tumble across Jack’s lips is too big of a turn-on for him to be bothered.

“Oh, Jack,” Bitty says, his eyes greedily drinking in the sight of Jack’s arm moving, the way his muscles flex with each short motion, picking up the pace. The camera is tilted too high up for Bitty to see everything and Bitty’s close, he’s so close, and he wants to see all of Jack.

“Jack, sweetheart, let me see you. I want to see you come,” Bitty says.

Jack groans and tilts the camera down for Bitty. Only the bottom half of Jack’s face is still visible, and he’s biting his bottom lip the way he does when he’s getting close. Bitty’s eyes trail down to where Jack’s hands is sliding up and down and a flare of heat runs up his spine seeing how hard Jack is just for him.

“Bits, Bitty,” Jack says. “I’m--”

There’s a loud knock at his door and Bitty freezes. He glances over his shoulder and watches in horror as the door knob twists and the door starts to open. He can’t believe he forgot to lock the door! Faster than he thought possible, Bitty closes out of Skype and desperately grabs for the hand towel on his bed, throwing it over his lap.

“Hey, Bits, have you--” Holster’s voice cuts off.

“Not a good time, Holster,” Bitty manages to choke out, refusing to turn around. There’s no way he’ll miss what Bitty is up to. There’s a generous amount of awkward silence before Holster speaks up again.

“Bro, I know we all love hockey... but uh...” He says.

Confused, Bitty steels the courage to look at him. Holster, instead, is looking over Bitty’s shoulder at his computer screen. Bitty turns back around and sees Jack’s highlight reel still playing on auto-repeat.

“Oh, Lord,” Bitty says and buries his face in his hands.

“I guess I can’t say that I haven’t felt the same way watching certain games--hmm. Or after playing certain games. Oh, oh! Do you remember the game at BU last year? Oh, man, afterwards I had such a raging--”

“Holster!” Bitty says. “Could you please--”

“Shit. Yeah. Sorry about that, Bits. Come find me when you finish up. I want to talk to you about an idea I had for practice tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Bitty says weakly.

The door closes and Bitty gets up and walks over to it, locks it, and goes back to his desk and sits down. He stews in his mortification for a few seconds, putting his face back in his hands and groaning, before he takes a deep breath and opens Skype. He calls Jack, who answers immediately.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Jack asks worriedly.

“It’s fine. I just--Holster had a question,” Bitty says.

Jack stares at him.

“I forgot to lock my door.” Bitty says.

Comprehension dawns across Jack’s face.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“Did he…”

“He didn’t see you--well, not exactly.” Bitty says.

“What do you mean?”

Bitty explains Holster’s assumption and Jack honest-to-god snorts and starts laughing.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bitty says after about thirty seconds. “Laugh it up, mister.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack says. It’s earnest, but there’s still an amused smile on his face. Bitty sighs and rolls his eyes a little fondly.

“Did you, um…” Bitty trails off. He makes a vague gesture with his hand but Jack seems to understand.

“Yeah--uh--yeah. Sorry. I kinda… hit the point of no return right before you disconnected,” Jack says, a little abashed. He’s silent for a moment. “But I can still help you, if you want?”

Bitty sighs and thinks about it for a second, but the wind has been let out of his sails, so to speak.

“That’s okay,” he says. “Holster kinda ruined the mood for me anyway.”

“You sure?” Jack asks.

“I’m sure.”

“I could--um--I could talk you through it?” Jack asks, spots of red appearing on his cheeks. He looks a little uncertain but ultimately committed to seeing it through, if that’s what Bitty wants.

“You are going to be the death of me,” Bitty says. “But it’s okay. Raincheck on that offer?”

“For you, Bits? Anything.”

Bitty smiles.


	4. Why? Oh, He’s Center Field.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is a little amazed that no one has noticed the way he’s been undressing Bitty with his eyes all afternoon.

It’s been a long time since they’ve seen each other in person. Too long for young men dealing with the feelings and urges that come with new relationships and first loves.

Jack arrives early in the morning and is promptly pulled into a round of hugs and multiple conversations at once, when all he really wants to do is vault over the kitchen table and scoop Bitty up unto his arms (and maybe part of him wants to throw Bitty over his shoulder and march him up the stairs where there’s a bed waiting for them). It takes nearly all of Jack’s willpower to not act like a neanderthal when Bitty comes over for his hug, a hug that Jack lets linger for just a bit longer than he should. But he pulls back, casually ruffles Bitty’s hair like a good friend might do, and smiles back when Bitty grins up at him. Jack thinks that maybe, just for a little while, he might be able to stifle his baser urges.

Bitty seems to be doing everything he can to tempt Jack, though. He casually brushes a hand along the inside of Jack’s arm when reaching across the table. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, biting it after, whenever he notices Jack looking at him. But when Bitty drops something on the floor for the third time and bends over right in front of Jack, Lardo eyes him speculatively.

“Bits, you okay?” Lardo asks. Bitty straightens up and moves to run the spoon he had just dropped under the faucet.

“Too much excitement, I’ve got butterfingers today,” Bitty says with a light laugh. Jack watches him carefully, a little concerned because it isn’t like Bitty to be so clumsy, and when Lardo turns her attention back to the conversation at the table, Bitty smirks.

Oh.

Bitty’s _toying_ with him.

Jack has to fight to keep the grin off his own face and tries to settle in for the ride.

The rest of the morning and afternoon pass in a bit of a daze. Bitty’s always around him, touching him when he thinks he can get away with it and teasing Jack in every way he pull off in full view of the others. At one point he starts giving the straw from his iced coffee a bit too much attention and Jack struggles with maintaining his conversation with Ransom until he’s reduced to mumbling agreements and nodding his head.

Jack is a little amazed that no one has noticed the way he’s been undressing Bitty with his eyes all afternoon.

Thankfully, Lardo eventually takes off to finish up a project in her studio, Ransom and Holster go on a beer run, taking the frogs with them to help carry the goods, and Bitty and Jack are left alone in the Haus. They look at each other for ten seconds as the front door closes before Jack is chasing Bitty up the stairs. Bitty’s faster but Jack’s reach is longer and when they hit the second floor landing, Bitty laughs as Jack’s arms wind around his waist and lift him up off the ground, his back to Jack’s chest.

Jack carries him into Bitty’s room, shutting the door behind him, and tosses Bitty onto the bed. Bitty scrambles up onto his knees and Jack stalks over to him and then they’re finally kissing. Jack channels all of the pent-up sexual frustration from the day into the kiss, one hand on Bitty’s hips to pull him up against his body, one hand cupping Bitty’s jaw too tight as his tongue delves into his mouth.

His hands slide up from Bitty’s hip, pushing Bitty’s shirt with it but Bitty stops kissing and puts his hand on Jack’s chest.

“Wait,” he says against Jack’s lips.

Jack pulls back enough to look at him properly.

“Let me… Lord, I’ve missed you. Let me show you how much,” Bitty says. His voice is low and rough and how could Jack resist?

He lets Bitty maneuver them around until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, Bitty kneeling between Jack’s spread legs. His eyes are bright but his grin is dirty as he undoes the button on Jack’s jeans and pulls down the zipper. Jack lifts himself enough for Bitty to pull off his pants and underwear and then Bitty is running his hands over Jack’s thighs, pushing the sparse hair against the grain, and Jack is dizzy with lust, all of his blood heading south for the foreseeable future.

He clenches at the bedsheets, feels Bitty’s warm breath against his skin as he drops light kisses on the inside of his knees and works his way up, watching Jack watch him. It’s one of the hottest things Jack’s ever seen.

Bitty’s window is open, the cool fall air lazily ruffling the curtains. Lardo’s window must be open too, because they hear a small crash from her room followed by Ransom’s voice.

“I can’t find the tap, dude.”

“She said it was on her desk--”

“I’m _looking_ at her desk. It’s not there!”

Jack would laugh if he weren’t focused on the obscene way Bitty was opening his plump lips--

“Go ask Bitty, then!”

Bitty’s eyes widen and Jack’s heart leaps into his throat. They hear the distinct sound of rubber soles against shingles and Jack realizes they’ve got approximately five seconds to decide on what to do and another five to actually do it.

Bitty sits back on feet, glancing around the room. Jack looks at Bitty, who’s still fully dressed, then he looks at himself, naked from the waist down. There’s no other option.

“Quick,” he hisses to Bitty, nodding toward the bedroom door. Bitty doesn’t hesitate, having come to the same conclusion. He’s up on his feet and unlocking and slipping out the door just as Holster’s legs appear at the window. It clicks shut quietly and Jack barely has enough time to cover his lap with Bitty’s pillow before Holster’s coming into the room already talking.

“Hey, Bits--” he says. The words die on his lips as soon as he spots Jack.

Jack who is sitting on Bitty’s bed with his pants down by his feet, his face flush, and Bitty’s pillow covering his naked lap.

“Bro,” Holster says, gravely.

“Dude,” Ransom adds from where he’s crouched at the window.

“Uh,” Jack says.

Ransom’s already reached his conclusion, judging by his expression. Holster is looking at Jack, his eyes making a circuit from the floor to the pillow to Jack’s face and even if they missed Bitty sneaking out of the room, it has to be obvious what they were up to. Jack’s fumbling for words, desperately trying to think of something, anything he can say to de-escalate this because he knows that they’ll be insufferable about it but they also need to know how serious this is, how much they cannot afford to let it out of this room and Jack’s throat is getting tight and his breath is coming a little shorter and--

“Jerking off in another bro’s room?” Holster asks.

“Isn’t that against the bylaws?” Ransom asks.

“Not cool, dude,” Holster says. “Not cool at all.”

Jack feels light-headed and and he can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack agrees quickly, knowing he’s never going to hear the end of this. “I guess I just couldn’t… help myself?”

“Awkwaaaard,” Ransom says.

“We’ll just… leave you to it,” Holster says, snickering.

Jack watches as he goes back out the window. When he’s alone again, he flops backwards onto Bitty’s bed and groans.

He stares up at the ceiling and thinks about how every choice he has ever made in his life has led him to this point, but when he turns his head and sees Señor Bun sitting next to Bitty’s other pillow, he finds he can’t regret a single one.


	5. Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ransom steeples his fingers in front of his face, looking thoughtful. Holster grins. Bitty steels himself.

Bitty’s stomach drops when he walks into the kitchen early one morning to find Ransom and Holster sitting patiently, like they’ve been waiting for him. They’ve both got a look in their eyes, the same one they had when they tried to interrogate him after the last Winter Screw. It feels a little bit like being confronted by his parents when he’s done something wrong and it is far too early in the morning for this.

He walks over to the coffee maker, pleased that at least their disconcerting presence means there’s a fresh pot waiting for him. After he gets it to the perfect sweetness, he sighs, takes a sip, turns around and leans against the counter with the mug curled in his hands.

“Good morning,” he says.

Ransom steeples his fingers in front of his face, looking thoughtful. Holster grins. Bitty steels himself.

“Eric Bittle,” Holster says. It’s a little creepy, Bitty thinks.

“Bitty,” Ransom adds.

“Bits,” Holster says.

“A little _birdy_ told us--” Ransom begins. Holster laughs, says ‘ _nice_ ’ and holds his fist out for a bump which Ransom gladly gives.

“Boys,” Bitty pleads. “Just get on with it, please?”

“We did a little reconnaissance,” Holster says.

“We gathered some data. Tweets, dates, times, locations… and we threw it all into a spreadsheet. And guess what we found,” Ransom says smugly.

Something curls in Bitty’s gut. He doesn’t care that his teammates look at his Twitter on occasion, he’s very careful about what he posts. But even so, Bitty feels like his world is tilting. He doesn’t know what to say, though, so he shrugs helplessly.

“We cross-referenced your tweets about your secret boyfriend with the dates you were down in Providence,” Holster says.

“Visiting Jack,” Ransom adds.

Bitty feels his face go pale, his hands are suddenly weak and he very nearly drops his coffee mug. He sets it on the counter and folds his arms across his chest as he mentally berates himself for being so careless, for talking about his boyfriend on Twitter as often as he did. He should have been more careful--oh, god, Jack is going to be so upset.

“What we’re saying is--” Holster adds.

“We know,” Ransom finishes.

“Guys, please--”

“I mean, it all made sense once we really thought about it,” Holster says. Ransom nods in agreement.

“Using Jack as a cover while really you’re visiting your boyfriend in Providence is kind of brilliant, dude. I mean we all were a little curious as to why you seemed to go down there so often,” Ransom says.

“Oh,” Bitty says, relieved. “Yes--that’s. That’s exactly it. That’s exactly what I was doing.”

“Not so fast, Bits,” Holster says.

“Not only did your tweets line up with your visits to Providence, but we also compared those visits to the Falconers schedule,” Ransom says.

Bitty’s stomach resumes its previous position somewhere near his knees.

“Now, you could just be really committed to the act, scheduling visits to your boyfriend when Jack’s in town, but we don’t think that’s the case,” Holster says.

Ransom shakes his head.

“Guys, _please_ ,” Bitty says. “He’s not--he’s not out. You can’t just--”

“Relax, Bits,” Holster says. “We’re not going to tell anyone you’re dating one of Jack’s teammates.”

Bitty’s mouth snaps shut and for a split second he’s certain his very soul has stepped away from his body. Fortunately, neither Ransom nor Holster notice his out-of-body experience.

“As long as you answer a couple of questions,” Ransom adds.

“What?” Bitty asks dumbly, because it’s still the only thought circling around his head. They must take it as confirmation and agreement, however, since they barrel right along with their questions.

“Who is it?” Holster asks.

“I can’t--I can’t tell you that.” Bitty says, still reeling.

“Fair enough,” Ransom adds, shrugging. “We didn’t think we’d get that one out of you, but it was worth a shot.”

“Does Jack know? He must, if you’ve been using him for cover, right?” Holster asks.

Bitty bites down on a manic giggle. “Oh. Yes… Jack definitely knows.”

“Does he make you happy?” Ransom asks.

Bitty can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. “Lord. I am--I am _so_ happy.”

“Aww,” Ransom says, “Look at that! Bits is in love!”

“Bro,” Holster says, seriously. “We didn’t realize it was so serious.”

Bitty feels his face heat up. He shrugs.

“You know what this means, Rans?” Holster asks.

“Group hug!” Ransom shouts.

* * *

Later, hours after Bitty is finally able to remove his face from Holster’s chest and escape to his room, he Skypes Jack and tells him the whole story.

Jack laughs for a good minute before he’s able to calm down enough to speak, the kind of laughter that never ceases to amaze Bitty. He watches with a smile on his face, trying to stifle his own giggles.

“Oh, man. That’s amazing,” Jack says, rubbing his face and relaxing back into his chair with a sigh. “I wonder who they think it is? Poots? Snowy? Oh! What about Guy?”

Bitty taps his chin for a second. “Tater, I think.”

“Tater?” Jack asks.

Bitty shrugs. “What can I say, I have a thing for tall, strong brunettes that could toss me around like a ragdoll.”

“Really?” Jack asks in a low voice. “You mean like the time in my kitchen?”

Bitty grins. “Exactly like that.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Besides, have you _seen_ his butt? I mean that thing is a gift--”

“Hey,” Jack says, frowning. Bitty laughs.

“Aw, honey, you know your butt’s the only butt for me.”

“Damn straight,” Jack says. Then he sighs, looking serious. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Hmm?”

“Maybe--I know this has been hard. The distance, the secrecy. It’s hard on both of us. Maybe it’s time we tell someone? Not like… I’m not ready to be out yet. But maybe just the guys? We know we can trust them.”

“Jack,” Bitty says. He fights the urge to reach out and touch the screen. “You know I’m okay with it, right? I won’t deny that I feel mighty guilty every time I have to lie, those boys are my best friends, but I understand why I have to do it. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this for me.”

“It’s not just for you, Bits. I feel… I guess I feel guilty too? And I don’t know--maybe it would make things easier for the both of us if we didn’t have to lie to them every time we all see each other. And... it would be nice, you know? I’d like to be able to reach over and hold your hand when I’m there. Or kiss you goodbye at the Haus. It would be a relief--them knowing, I mean.”

Bitty doesn’t fight the urge this time, letting his fingertips brush against the computer screen. “Either way is okay with me, sweetheart. I’m already out to them and they know I have a boyfriend, so--this is up to you. If you want to tell them, I am with you one-hundred percent of the way. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Jack says, immediately.

Bitty smiles. “I suppose it would be nice to have you sleep in my bed when you come visit.”

“It’ll be nice not having to cover your mouth when we--”

“ _Jack!_ ” Bitty says, scandalized.

Jack starts laughing again and Bitty follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the plot for this chapter (and really what spurred the entire fic) was inspired by [this tumblr post](http://violacakes.tumblr.com/post/142736176523/thought-of-the-day).


	6. Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, y’all. I have something to tell you.”

When they talk about a plan, they decide they want to announce it to everyone at once. It’ll be better to face the flood of chirps instead of dealing with a never ending stream if they have to tell everyone individually, Bitty says.

Initially, they think that it will take a few months before they can manage to rope everyone into one location, and Bitty’s secretly thankful for the delay. He wants Jack to have time to truly process everything because there’ll be no stuffing that particular cat back into the bag.

Jack’s resolve and commitment is tested almost immediately, however, when they find out that Jack, the Samwell team, and Shitty all have a free weekend coming up in less than a month. Bitty doesn’t expect Jack to back out--once he’s made a decision, come hell or high water, he’s going through with it--but he does expect Jack’s nerves to flair up.

Bitty’s surprised when he tells Jack about the free weekend and Jack simply nods, smiles, and says, “Sounds good,” without a second of hesitation.

Bitty spends the next couple of weeks drafting a speech before putting it down on notecards.

He keeps that to himself because if Jack knew how much time and effort Bitty was putting into this over the paper he has to turn in at the end of the month, he’s sure he’d get Jack’s ‘I’m-not-angry-just-disappointed’ look. Bitty’s dismayed at how well it works on him.

Either way, the plan is to gather everyone up; Bitty will make his speech right before Jack arrives, and then they’ll field the questions--and chirps--together. It’s a good plan, Bitty thinks.

* * *

The fateful day arrives and everyone’s gathered in the Haus except for Shitty, who called Lardo to let them know he’s caught up in traffic. Bitty knows Shitty won't make it before Jack gets there, but they’ve got a plan and they’re sticking to it, Shitty won’t care that he found out a few minutes after everyone else. At least not once he sees what Bitty has in the oven.

Jack calls him when he takes the exit for Samwell and Bitty digs his notecards out of his pocket. He heads to the den where everyone is lounging on that god-awful couch playing Mario Kart, and stands next to the television.

“Hey, y’all. I have something to tell you.”

For a split second, no one reacts and he thinks he might have to repeat himself. Lardo’s eyes finally flicker over to him and she must see the serious look on his face because she brings her fingers up to her lips and lets out a deafening whistle.

“Shut up, dudes. Bitty’s got something important to say!”

Bitty smiles at her in gratitude.

Once everyone is paying attention, Bitty glances down at his cards and takes a deep breath.

“Y’all know that I’ve been dating someone for the past ten months, and that I haven’t been able to tell you much about it. I’m real sorry about that, not only because I’m bursting at the seams with happiness and want to be able to share that with you, but also because y’all are my best friends and I felt awful every time I had to lie or avoid telling the truth… So. It’s time. He’s on his way here right now--”

“Wait what? It’s Shitty?” Chowder asks.

Lardo punches his shoulder and rolls her eyes.

“--uh no, definitely not Shitty,” Bitty laughs. “But, like I said, he’s on his way and should be here any minute… and when he walks through that door I hope you guys understand why we’ve had to keep it secret so long. I’m just--really, really happy, y’all. You don’t even know. So please don’t do anything too crazy, alright?”

“Bro,” Ransom says. He and Holster look at Bitty excitedly. Bitty has to hold back a laugh, knowing they’re still trying to figure out _which_ Falconer he’s dating and is about to grace their doorstep.

It’s not just Ransom and Holster, though. There’s a palpable excitement in the air. It’s amazing, Bitty thinks. He never thought he’d get to have this. Not only does he have the best boyfriend he could possible ask for, but he’s got this whole second family, people who know him inside and out, who are truly and legitimately happy for him. A whole second family that truly loves him. He has to take a second to fight back the tears threatening to spring to his eyes.

Bitty hears a car door slam outside and he swallows. “That’ll be him,” he says, thankful his voice doesn’t do anything embarrassing.

He heads towards the front door and a split second later hears the sound of people elbowing each other out of the way as they all get up to stampede after him. Jack’s waiting on the porch when he opens the door and he smiles at Bitty bashfully.

“Hey,” Jack says.

“Hey yourself,” Bitty replies with a grin.

Jack opens his mouth to say something else, but he’s interrupted by the peanut gallery assembled behind Bitty.

“Jack!” Holster yells, barrelling forward to envelope Jack in a hug.

It sets off a cascade and Bitty ends up having to shoo the writhing mass of hockey players off of the front porch and into the Haus so they can finally talk.

They wind up in the kitchen, Jack seated at the table, Bitty flitting around the room pulling together some snacks for everyone. It’s not like they haven’t seen him since graduation, Jack has been to the Haus a few times that semester, but they’re all grilling him about anything and everything under the sun. Bitty can’t blame them, he supposes. After all, he’s pretty excited to see Jack too. He even gets to talk to Jack every night but still finds himself counting down the hours until he can hear Jack’s voice again.

“Wait a second,” Lardo says loudly. Everyone, including Bitty, turns to look at her. “Bits, you said your boyfriend…” She trails off and then looks at Jack, her eyes going wide.

Bitty watches as comprehension dawns like dominos across the faces of Chowder, Nursey, Dex--

“Yeah,” Holster says, turning to Jack. “Did you give him a ride here?”

“Bro, did you know Bits is dating a Falconer?” Ransom asks.

Jack’s eyebrow go up and he glances at Bitty with a look of disbelief. Bitty has to stop himself from laughing as he shrugs his shoulders helplessly.

Jack clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. Yeah… I guess you could say I drove him here? And yes, I knew he’s dating a Falconer.”

“Did you introduce them?” Holster asks. “Which one is it? Ransom thinks it’s Tater but I think he’s weighing the importance of booty too heavily.”

Bitty does laugh out loud at that, much to Jack’s displeasure.

“Really, guys?” Lardo says, looking at them both like she’s in awe of their complete and utter lack of awareness. It is pretty impressive, Bitty thinks.

They need to clear up the situation fast, because for all that Ransom and Holster can be amusing, all Bitty’s wants to do right now is plop himself on Jack’s lap, bury his face in his neck, and breathe in his scent.

Actually--now that he thinks about it, doing just that should make things pretty clear.

Unfortunately, before he can take more than one step in Jack’s direction, the front door bangs open and Shitty downright skids into the room.

“So, what’s going on, what’s the big deal, what did I miss?” He asks, trying to catch his breath.

“I’m seeing Jack,” Bitty blurts out.

Shitty looks at him, then back to Jack, and then says very slowly, “Uh, yeah… me too. He’s right there.”

“Dear _lord_ ,” Bitty says, frustrated. “I mean, I am _seeing_ Jack.”

“Ohhhh,” Shitty says.

Bitty throws up his hands.  “Finally,” he says emphatically.

Shitty’s eyebrows furrow. “What about Dicky?” He asks, looking at Jack.

Jack laughs. Bitty blushes.

“I’m Dicky,” Bitty says.

“You’re Dicky?” Shitty asks.

“What’s a Dicky?” Chowder asks.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Bitty stalks over to Jack, straddles his lap, and pulls him up into the deepest kiss his feels comfortable with in public.

He lets it linger a bit too long, going in for a second and third taste before he gently nips at Jack’s lower lip and pulls back. Jack looks up at him, face flush and eye bright, a big smile spreading across his face. Bitty takes a second to smooth down Jack’s hair from where his fingers had twisted into the soft strands, and then calmly turns until he’s sitting across Jack’s lap, Jack’s fingers resting comfortably on his hip. He takes a deep breath and turns back to the table.

“Any questions?” He asks to shocked silence.

There’s a beat, and then all hell breaks loose.

***

They spend that night at the Haus, Bitty virtually glowing with pleasure at the way they announce they’re going to turn in for the night. Together. There’s a wolf whistle and a couple of wiggling eyebrows, but otherwise no one makes a big deal of it. When they slide into Bitty’s bed (together) they’re both too tired to do anything but kiss lazily for a few minutes before they drift off to sleep (together).

Part two of their plan is to get the hell out of dodge. They know that everyone will be talking about it behind their backs. Not maliciously, but they’ll still want to gossip and chatter without Bitty and Jack overhearing, so the two of them head back to Jack’s place for the remainder of the weekend while the rest of them get it out of their system.

It’s when they’re in Jack’s car that Bitty’s sex-drive finally overrides all of his thoughts and feelings about the previous day and he finds himself positively _aching_ for Jack’s touch.

“I missed you,” Bitty says.

“I missed you, too,” Jack says, looking over at him and smiling before looking back at the road. “That went pretty well, eh? I still can’t believe Ransom and Hols--”

“No, Jack,” Bitty says. He trails a finger up Jack’s denim-clad thigh. “I’ve _missed_ you.”

Bitty watches Jack swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and Bitty wants nothing more than to feel that movement under his lips, his tongue. Jack squirms a little in his seat, and Bitty grins--Jack is so incredibly sensitive. He traces idle patterns in Jack’s thigh for another minute before Jack manages a reply.

“Bits,” he says. It’s a warning.

Bitty pulls back his hand and puts them in his own lap, the picture of innocence as he looks out the passenger window and bites his lip to keep from smiling too hard.

The rest of the ride is spent in silence. Fifteen minutes with only the sound of each other breathing and the low melodies playing on the radio, barely discernible over the sound of the tires on the road. By the time Jack is pulling into his parking spot, the atmosphere in the car has turned almost palpable with desire and Bitty’s wondering what Jack will do if he sinks to his knees the moment the elevator doors close.

He doesn’t get to find out. The moment the doors slide closed, Jack has him pressed up against the wall, his knee between Bitty’s legs as he pulls Bitty into a deep kiss. Jack’s tongue slides against his as Bitty’s brain tries to catch up. When the elevator comes to a halt, Bitty is breathless and hard in his jeans and he’s holding onto Jack’s shirt for dear life. Jack quickly kisses the tip of Bitty’s nose and then backs away from him right as the doors slide open.

Jack strides out of the elevator and Bitty has to scramble to follow him out before the doors close again. When Bitty catches up to him, Jack’s already unlocking the door and pushing it open. He turns around, ushers Bitty through the doorway, and then follows him in. He takes a moment, hanging his coat on the hook, sliding off his shoes, putting his keys in the dish on the table, and then he turns to Bitty and moves with a swiftness, a purpose that’s usually seen on the ice--but it’s Bitty’s great pleasure to know how often it comes out to play in the bedroom as well.

Jack takes the two steps to Bitty and doesn’t hesitate before reaching down and lifting him up, Bitty’s legs automatically winding around Jack’s waist. Bitty can’t hold back a groan as Jack nips and sucks at the skin on his neck as Jack carries him into the bedroom.

He sets Bitty down on the bed and straightens up, not wasting a moment before pulling off his own shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. He crawls across the bed on his knees, pushing Bitty down as he goes, before pressing him into the mattress with his body.

They’re both breathing heavily in the silent room. Jack captures Bitty’s lips in another kiss, dirtier than the one in the elevator had been, and slides his hand up under the hem of Bitty’s shirt, pushing it up as he goes. Jack lets Bitty up enough to pull the shirt entirely off, and then he’s straight back to kissing Bitty, running his warm hands all over Bitty’s chest, fingers circling his nipples and tracing the planes of his abdomen before reaching down to unbutton Bitty’s jeans.

Jack breaks the kiss to nip at Bitty’s collarbones and Bitty works on trying to catch his breath. Jack hits a sensitive spot and Bitty feels lightheaded.

“Jack, oh god,” he whispers roughly.

“Want you,” Jack sighs. “Want you so much.” Bitty can feel the vibration of the words right against his body. Goosebumps flare up over his skin as heat pools in his groin.

Jack’s hand dips into Bitty’s jeans and wraps around his cock.

“Fuck,” Bitty gasps, his back arching.

Jack hums, a rumble deep in his chest. His hand is pumping Bitty’s cock frantically and Bitty is surprised at how quickly he finds himself on the edge, that Jack’s not trying to draw things out like usual, that Jack’s losing control because of _him_.

“Jack,” Bitty says, pushing at his chest. “Jack, wait.”

Jack immediately pulls his hand out of Bitty’s pants and he’s up on his knees, looking at Bitty with concern.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry, did I--”

“No, no, you’re fine. Holy hell you’re more than fine. I just--I was getting close,” Bitty says. Jack’s eyebrows go up and Bitty feels his cheeks heat. “And I want you inside me. When I come. If that’s alright with you.”

Jack grins, cupping Bitty’s cheek. “I think I would be okay with that,” he says and then leans down for another kiss.

When they part, Jack rolls over to rummage through his nightstand. Bitty casts his gaze around the room, looking at the open door.

“You locked your front door, right?” Bitty asks.

“Hmm? Yeah, of course,” Jack replies, distracted. Something gets knocked off the nightstand and Jack curses.

Bitty stares at the bedroom door a little longer before he gets out of bed and shuts it, turning the lock on the handle. When he looks back at the bed, Jack is looking at him with an amused smile on his face.

Bitty shrugs. “Not taking any chances tonight,” he says, then shucks off his pants and underwear in one smooth motion before walking back over to Jack and crawling on top of him, straddling his thighs.

“Now where were we?” Bitty asks. He bends down without bothering to wait for an answer and kisses Jack, rocking against the thickness of his cock under the denim.

Time seems to speed up, Bitty hears the the soft _snick_ of a bottle being opened, and then Jack’s finger is sliding slick around his hole as his other hand massages Bitty’s ass cheek. Jack presses one in and Bitty’s sighs softly into the kiss.

There’s something startlingly intimate about being fingered, Bitty thinks. Not that what the rest of what they do isn’t, but there’s something different about the feel of Jack’s fingers moving and twisting around inside him, trying to light sparks behind Bitty’s eyes.

Some days, Bitty craves that feeling. Some days, he just wants Jack to slick his fingers up and work him over until he’s an incoherent mess on the sheets.

Tonight, though, Bitty needs more. And when he feels sloppy and wet and open, he reaches behind himself and grabs Jack’s wrist, pulling his hand carefully away. He sits up on his knees, reaches around, giving Jack a few strokes before he positions himself and carefully, inch by inch, sinks down around Jack’s cock.

Jack groans when Bitty settles firmly on his thighs. Jack’s still wearing his jeans, the button and zipper digging into Bitty’s over-sensitive flesh, but he doesn’t care. He feels awash with the pleasure radiating from every cell in his body.

He wiggles around for a second before he carefully lifts himself back up and slides down. He takes a few teasing thrusts, Jack’s fingers pressing bruises into Bitty’s hips with the strength of his grip, before he starts moving in earnest.

They’re both too keyed up for this to last very long, and that’s fine with Bitty--they have a day and a half to make up for it after all. It’s still surprising, though, when Jack starts gasping, when he starts chanting Bitty’s name and slipping into words that Bitty can’t understand.

“God, Bitty,” Jack says roughly. “So good. You feel so good.”

Bitty groans and leans forward, chest to chest with Jack, burying his face into Jack’s neck.

Jack sees the opportunity and takes it, planting his feet on the mattress and taking over, driving up into Bitty’s body, sliding against the spot that makes Bitty feel like he’s coming apart at the seams. It’s all Bitty can do to slide a hand between their sweat-slick stomachs and wrap his hand around himself before he’s coming with a groan and Jack’s name on his lips.

Jack goes silent almost immediately. He’s pumping in and out of Bitty frantically until he stops breathing altogether and comes with a broken sound, hips faltering before stilling completely. Bitty presses lazy kisses onto Jack’s shoulder, Jack’s hands smoothing over the back of Bitty’s head gently, without thought.

They stay there, locked together, until Bitty squirms and feels the stickiness between them. He laughs and then groans.

“Gross,” he says.

Jack chuckles, but slowly pulls out, and Bitty sits up, still straddling him. He runs a finger through the mess on Jack’s chest.

“Come on,” he says, gently flicking at Jack’s nipple just to see his body twitch in a way that makes his abs flex. “What do you say we hop in the shower and then order in a pizza? I’m too wiped to cook right now.”

Jack’s hand flies up to rest over his heart, in mock surprise. “Eric Bittle too tired to cook? Isn’t that a sign of the apocalypse?”

Bitty snorts, rolls off of Jack, and slides off the bed. “Chirp, chirp, chirp,” he says as he walks through the bathroom door.

Barely ten seconds pass before he sticks his head back out.

“Come on now,” Bitty says. “My hands haven’t gotten to touch your butt in far too long and I intend to correct that.”

Jack laughs, rolls out of the bed, and follows Bitty into the bathroom.

* * *

Neither of them hear the knock on Jack’s front door with the shower going.

Neither of them see Jack’s teammate--who lives just down the street--wait for a few seconds before knocking again and trying the door handle. He’s already lectured Jack about his terrible habit of not locking his door when he’s at home.

It doesn’t budge.

Finally, neither of them see as Jack’s teammate shrugs and decide to just call Jack later as he heads back down towards the elevator.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Quick note--As Bitty said, they've been dating ~10 months, so rest assured both of them have done the responsible thing and had the safe sex talk with each other followed by fun medical tests followed by the absolute messiest sex Bitty has ever had in his life.)
> 
> That's all, folks! I hope you enjoyed the ride! :D

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](http://bootycap.tumblr.com)!


End file.
